Sovereign
by lowkeytho
Summary: 1500's: Tudor-era England, Lady Hermione Warwick-Granger has been summoned to court where she learns not everything is as it seems, while attempting to avoid the power-hungry Duke of Norfolk: Thomas Riddle, who's taken an interest in her, among other things. AU. No Magic.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I own nothing!

_England 1534_

Lady Hermione Warwick-Granger had been staring at the letter for two days. The anxiety of it's content had caused sleep deprivation and she regretfully resumed the habit of biting her nails. Her mother never failed to express her disgust toward Hermione's 'stress reliever' as she called it. Hermione sighed as she fingered the smooth parchment, her eyes continuously catching the king's seal as it sat perfectly centered while guarding the envelope's potential opening. Her mother had not done her any favors. As soon as the Warwick-Granger matriarch heard King Harry's wife Ginerva, was in need of a lady in waiting, the countess volunteered her only daughter.

Hermione had heard stories of court. Ladies in waiting are viewed as whores with titles. Her mother had once let slip that court had been great; a sanctuary almost, until the previous king, Charlus Potter passed away due to dragon pox, leaving his sole heir unprepared to take the throne. Harry Potter makes the kingdom of Gryffindor look weak, despicable even. Two hundred years ago, the Peverell family of Gryffindor came in to power and saved many across the kingdom from starvation, disease, and famine. Hermione recalled what her mother had told her of the Peverell descendants:

_The kingdoms had been affluent under the reign of Ignotus Peverell, who ruled fair and just over the sub-kingdoms of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Although Ignotus was the sole heir, he included his bothers Antioch and Cadmus. Ignotus's eldest brother Antioch had been murdered while sleeping, dying without a wife or heir. Ignotus gave his brother Cadmus the title of Duke of Norfolk, making him the heir to the throne, should anything happen to Ignotus before he can produce a successor._

_Ignotus had two children: a son, Aloysius, and a daughter, Avellana. Aloysius took ill at thirteen, and never reached adulthood and Avellana married Erasmus Potter at fifteen, just months before her father had been murdered._

_There are several different stories about the death of the beloved Monarch, but most believe his brother Cadmus was behind it. Cadmus had been furious when Ignotus had announced that Erasmus, having married his daughter, would succeed him as king. Shortly after the birth of Charlus Potter, Cadmus traveled to the sub-kingdom of Slytherin, where he married and had one son, Marvolo Gaunt._

_While Charlus was in power, there were rumors of Marvolo's bitter demeanor and resentment toward the royal family. Before his death, Cadmus revealed to Marvolo that the throne is theirs by right. Eventually, after his father's death, Marvolo became obsessed with removing the house of potter from power. He couldn't bare to see the unworthy, filthy, vermin on his throne._

_Residing in Slytherin, Marvolo raised his two children, Morfin and Merope, to hate just as he had. He taught them to always believe themselves to be better than others, and to despise the royal family, as well as the royal family supporters. He had told his children, "There unworthy of the dirt under our shoes. They stole the throne, where our family belongs. They tainted our bloodlines."_

_Following Marvolo's death, Merope eloped with Tom Riddle Sr. of Gryffindor. Morfin was furious his sister tainted herself with a disgusting Potter-loving Gryffindor. Merope moved to Gryffindor with Tom, and lived under and illusion of happiness for almost three months, until he fell in love with someone else. Distressed over the life of her unborn child, Merope fled back to Slytherin. Tom Sr.'s abandonment of his sister only seemed to fuel Morfin's hatred of Gryffindor and the royal family. _

_Merope died in childbirth, and left Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. with his unstable uncle._

_England 1534_

_Sub-Kingdom of Slytherin_

Tom turned eleven when he realized his great-grandfather was an insipid fool. His reasons for hating the Potter's were legitimate, but he did not make use of his resources. Although it disgusted him to no end, Tom accepted his distant relation to the insufferable Potters. He could use the relation to his advantage, just as he used his inherited title: The Duke of Norfolk, to gain entry into the prestigious boarding school; Hogwarts.

Tom excelled in every subject, and quickly figured out the art of manipulation. He played on strengths and weaknesses, manipulating himself into the hearts and minds of many. The feeling associated with power: he couldn't describe it. He felt weightless, but weighed down with the power to change a mind or an idea. He needed to take it a step further.

Tom had an intense desire to take a life. He longed to be the deciding factor of someone's last breath of air; or perhaps blood? Yes, Tom had always been fascinated by the red metallic substance.

Lost in his murderous thoughts, Tom flinched when he heard his disgusting uncle scream, "Piece of shit! Get your unworthy ass out here!"

Tom ignored his uncle's words, he would get his sometime soon. Smiling to himself, he grabbed the candle lighting his room and paced across the room, cringing when the door created an inhuman creaking noise. He held his breath for the routine punch and kick to the gut, but in never came. Instead, Morfin dropped an envelope at Tom's feet. Morfin released a disgusting laugh, gagging on his own saliva as he choked out a sentence, "You've been asked to court." Giving up his struggle to contain his laughter, Morfin pivoted on his heel and sauntered down the hall.

A sizeable grin spread out on his angelic face as he figured out a use for his relation to the Potters: He could succeed Potter. Yes, why hadn't he thought of it before? Clearly the Weasly girl is infertile, they've been trying for years, and Tom was always surprised Potter could stand to stick his prick in her, she's vile. Triumphant thoughts coursed through his mind, 'When Potter dies without an heir, I'll be next. I'll take what's rightfully mine, instead of sitting on my ass like my idiot of an uncle.'

Whistling to himself, Tom retrieved his opened envelope and hurried to his room.

_England 1534_

Hermione wondered how the Riddle boy turned out. She sighed and told her herself it didn't matter anyway, she was just using her mental sidetracking to prolong the inevitable. She picked up a small silver letter opener, engraved with her initials, and slid it straight across the top of the envelope. Pulling the parchment out and laying it flat, she read:

_Daughter of The Viscount Hugo of Warwick and Countess Rose of Warwick,_

_Lady Hermione Warwick-Granger,_

_His majesty, King Harry Potter, descendent of the Great Ignotus Peverell, has approved your most noble request to aid her majesty, Queen Ginerva, as her Lady in waiting. Your departure will be four days from now. The King begs your forgiveness for the short notice, but the Queen insists on quick, punctual, arrivals. The carriage will arrive at Warwick Manor mid-day. In addition to yourself, the carriage will contain another passenger. Once again his majesty begs your pardon, but his distant cousin is coming to court as well. Perhaps you've herd of him? Tom Riddle, of the house of Gaunt, Duke of Norfolk._

_Things are done very differently at court, as you'll soon find out. Congratulations, and safe travels._

_ Respectfully,_

_ Draco Malfoy, of the house of Malfoy, Archbishop of Canterbury_

_ Head of his majesty's diplomatic duties_


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that Charlus Potter was actually James Potter's father, but in this story, he is Harry's. James and Lily will not be in this story. I know Dorea Black was Narcissa's Aunt, but in this story she is her sister. Also, sorry if I didn't make it clear before, this is a non-magic fic.**

**A special thanks to all my reviewers: deator11, gemini-rose16, Squishysib,melbruth, Guest, Mademoiselle Dara, Guest, Guest, ellebelle12. I'm glad you guys like it :)**

**Let me know what you think! Keep the reviews coming:)**

**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I own nothing.**

_England 1534_

_Sub-Kingdom of Slytherin_

Tom caressed the thick parchment of his letter, building up theories for his upcomming trip to court. He cursed himself for thinking of the positive result: potentialy gaining the throne, before thinking of the negative: his dear cousin summoning him to court, only to execute him. Tom paled, thinking about the execution method of being hung, drawn, and quartered. He had never witnessed it, but his uncle had once vividly described one he witnessed:

_An eight year-old Tom knew his uncle was drunk by the way he spoke to him. "You see, Tommy, the greatest punishment for high treason is to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Have you any idea the process my boy?" Tom stared at the sweaty face of his uncle. Anxiety poured through Tom at the thought of a few glasses of mead leaving his uncle in such a state._

_Seemingly satisfied Tom hadn't answered his question, Morfin continued." Well, you see, this type of punishment is special. It was created by sick fucks in high places, so naturally, that's who it's reserved for. Basically, only persons who have a title may receive a punishment such as this. The punishment begins with the drawing of the offender from the prison to the place of execution upon an hurdle or sled, where they are hung by the neck till they are half -dead, and then taken down, and quartered alive; which is the process of peeling the skin off. After that, their members and bowels are cut from their bodies, and thrown into a fire."_

_Tom felt sick. What kind of animals would engage in such an act? Tom scoffed. "Uncle, it was those Gryffindors wasn't it? There the only one's who would ever behave as such, they probably take turns doing it to-" Tom was unable to finish his sentence as Morfin's fist connected with his jaw. Leaking blood dripped down his chin, and tears leaked from his eyes. Morfin stared at Tom, his nostrils flaring as he tried to control his rage._

_Taking a deep breath, he replied in a shaky voice. "You know, I've seen an execution such as this before. Mind you, it was only once, but one can never forget it. Almost as if it becomes etched in the brain, especially when it was performed on someone you call a friend. As you know, people around our area don't have friends. It's every man for themselves. Values aside, this man was one I truly called brother, though we are not of the same blood. He was certainly more of a sibling than your filthy-whore of a mother."_

_Tom's eyes narrowed as Morfin continued. "Anyway, Charlus accused my friend of treason, because he wed and bed Charlus's secret mistress, who also happened to be the sister of the Queen Regent, Dorea. I aided my childhood friend and he evaded the king for nine months, until they were found and brought back to court. Lucius was tried for high treason, and endured this awful punishment. Narcissa was with child, and convinced the king to let her live and, to keep her transgressions a secret. The king agreed, and made it public knowledge that Lucius was murdered in his family home of Malfoy Manner, while Narcissa raised her only child at court. The king never revealed his obsession for Narcissa Malfoy, but he did declare the day of her death seven years ago, to be a day of mourning throughout the kingdom. As for her son," Morfin tapped a finger against his chin before continuing, "Let me see, what was his name again? "A few seconds of silence went by and Morfin's expression changed from thoughtful to triumphant. _

_He exclaimed, "Yes, now I remember, Draco. Lucius and Narcissa's son is Draco."_

Swallowing his unease, Tom unfolded the letter, cautiously beginning to read:

_Son of Thomas Riddle Sr., of the house of Riddle, the Marquees of Salisbury, and Merope Gaunt, of the house of Gaunt, the former Duchess of Norfolk, Ward of Morfin Gaunt_

_Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr.,_

_Your distant cousin, his majesty the king, requests your presence at court for the upcoming season. As you may know, the marriages of senior nobles, such as yourself, are usually a matter of the state, and it is the king's duty to choose a match that would prove beneficial to you._ _However_,_ his majesty has graciously allowed you to choose for yourself upon your arrival to court. The king sends his deepest apologies for the short notice, but the carriage will arrive in two days time to escort you to court. _

_In addition to yourself, Lady Hermione Warwick-Granger, daughter of the Viscount Hugo and Countess Rose of Warwick will also be making the journey to court. As this will be your first time at court, I beseech you to heed caution. Safe travels._

_Respectfully,_

_Draco Malfoy, of the House of Malfoy, Archbishop of Canterbury_

_Head of his majesty's diplomatic duties_

Upon completion of the letter, Tom hadn't noticed his mouth had been silightly open. Closing it, he cursed his imblicle of a cousin. Did Potter really think he wouldn't know? Tom was blatantly aware of the laws.

If the current king passed away without an heir, the next in line would have to be unwed when corrinated as king. The law was put into place in order to lower the chances of dukes and dutches attempting to concieve an heir for the crown before the current king died. Such an heir would be deemed bastard, and the throne would fall to the next family in line, the queens family, which in Tom's case would be those disgusting Weaslys.

Tom's momentary panic ceased as he remembered the writer of his letter: Draco Malfoy. He couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy would be as willing to do the kings bidding if he was aware of his father's death by the former kings hands? Acording to Morfin, Draco was Slytherin-bread, and Malfoy Manner is located in Slytherin.

Yes, Tom would not wed, until his carcass was firmly planted on the throne, and even then he was wairy of the task. Sure Tom had women, quite a few actually, but he never thought of marrying them. Marriage was so final. Tom had a precise plan, and marriage was not part of it. Women already threw themselves at him without marriage. Perhaps when he is crowned, he can keep his wife in the bed chamber shackled to the bed, where she would certianly annoy him the least. It would be slightly entertaining.

Tom wondered if Lady Warwick-Granger would entertain him, it is going to be a long trip to court. After all, it was common knowledge that all wicked things sprout from innocence. The Warwick-Granger name practically screamed innocence. A smirk slid on his face at the thought of corrupting her.

Tom's thoughts returned to Malfoy. He could use this to his advantage and gain the Malfoy heir as an ally. Revenge was in the blood of many Slytherins, and Draco would seek retribution from Potter. Tom felt confident he could resurface the Slytherin hidden deep within Draco Malfoy. After all, manipulation was a form of art.

Pleased with himself, Tom started packing his belongings for his upcomming trip.

_England 1534_

_Warwick Manor_

"Darling? Are you well? What did your letter say?" Hermione's nails dug into her palm as her mother's shrill voice echoed through the manor. She let out a sigh as her thoughts centered around regret toward her failure of opening the letter sooner. Two days simply wasn't enough time. She would have to tell the carriage upon it's arrival, that she just couldn't make it. Yes, that would be a perfect solution! Her smile faltered at the thought of her mother forcing her to depart anyway.

The countess is absolutely ruthless. Perhaps she could feign illness? No her mother would see right through her. The loud bang of her door closing forced Hermione from her thoughts. Snapping her head up, she saw her mother proudly basking in the center of her room.

Her mother's superior posture always intimidated Hermione. It served as a constant reminder of her lack of elegance. Hermione summoned all of her inner courage and approached her mother. Preying her voice remained neutral, she replied, "Mother, I'm sure you're itching to know if I've been asked to court, are you not?" Hermione's smirk slid firmly in place as her mother's face held an expression of shock, before returning to it's usual look of indifference.

Her mother's voice leaked malice as she responded, "Well, have you? Your father's asked me to send the request in the first place. You can take it up with him, I'm sure he has hours of free time on his hands reserved just for your incessant squabbling." Hermione's eyes narrowed as she maintained her neutral tone, "The carriage to court arrives in two days. Apparently, I won't be traveling alone either. The kings cousin and I are to share a carriage." her mother's eyes widened, creating a gaping hole in her flawless demeanor.

She softly asked, "A Black or a Weasly?You know the Earl of Nottingham wouldn't be a bad match for you, Ronald I think his name is. Darling you have to start thinking about your future, I mean, look at you. Seventeen and no husb-"

Hermione deliberately cut her mother off, "No mother. The Duke of Norfolk, a Riddle." Her mother's face fell. Reaching for the crumpled up letter in Hermione's hand, she skimmed through it, her expression changing from indifference to awe. Hermione continued to stare at her mother, wincing when she saw the rare crease in the Countess's eyebrows. As a child she had seen the crease a handful of times. The tiny lines of wrinkles had only appeared between her mother's eyebrows when Hermione had broken a rule, and there would always be punishment. She had come to think of the crease as an omen of consequence. Subconsciously, Hermione sat up straighter in hopes of appearing unafraid in front of the Warwick-Granger matriarch.

Her mother's voice was shaky when she spoke again, "Darling, it appears they've made a mistake. Perhaps I'm wrong, but when has Draco Malfoy ever set foot near anything that wasn't a direct matter of the state? I don't believe the customs have changed since I was a courtesan, but when I was your age: if one was accepted as a lady in waiting, the queen or one of her current ladies would have written this letter, not the head of the kings diplomatic duties." Hermione released a breath of air she hadn't known she was holding.

Why would a meager mistake such as this upset her mother? There was a slim chance of the countess's reaction being solely for the mistake of the sender. Why would it matter if the head of the king's diplomatic duties signed the letter? The Queens ladies could have been busy. Maybe the king, being the misogynistic pig that resembled most men, didn't believe a woman knew how to read or write. Hermione mentally snorted at her notion. She knew how to read and write, rather well in fact. Unlike most annoying twits who couldn't carry on a conversation to save their lives, Hermione held knowledge above all other things. Although, what was knowledge if one was unable to use it?

Sighing to herself, her thoughts drifted back to her mother. Hermione knew the Countess would never break her facial mask of indifference for anything. What had upset her so? Thinking back to the contents of the letter, Hermione's eyes widened. Thomas Riddle. Her mother tried to cover up her fear of the Duke of Norfolk, with an insufficient detail.

Hermione wanted to laugh at her mother's inability to admit her fears to her only daughter. The countess had always referred to the descendants of Cadmus Peverell as the seed of Cain. She tried to drill the idea in Hermione's mind that they were all capable of supreme acts of evil; and the desire of obtaining power was rooted in their blood.

Clearing her throat and ending the uncomfortable silence, the countess's voice was barely audible. "Well, I'll leave you to your packing. Get to it darling you don't have much time." The mask of indifference slid back into place, as her mother stood up and made her way toward the door.

Forcing her vocal chords to cooperate Hermione spoke in monotone, "Thomas Riddle does not intimidate me, mother. I beseech you to set aside the notion that evil is in the blood. One is not born evil. Do you truly believe a child could know if they wish to torture, maim, and kill before learning of the worlds evils? Blood is merely a sustenance for life, it does not decide who you are. Our blood runs as red as Thomas Riddle's." Feeling the familiar flutter in her stomach she often got when speaking her mind, Hermione tried to gather the courage to look her mother in the eyes.

Her throat ran dry as heard the familiar shrill voice ring out, "Hermione, my darling, if your definition of evil is limited to torture, maim, and kill; I'm sorry to say you will have an awfully difficult time at court. I will not repeat myself so listen well. You think I'm cold? Ruthless even?"

The countess waited for Hermione's expected nod, before continuing, "My child they will they will eat your heart out. The only thing that matters at court is power. Though many consider them lucky, those favored by the king are in a precarious spot. His affections leave as quickly as they come. Do not give yourself to the king, and don't feel as though you have to. There is always a choice. If you choose to do so, the queen will make it as though you live in purgatory. Queen Ginerva may seem to be a friendly woman, unaware of what goes on around her. She is not. More importantly, she has eyes and ears everywhere, nothing goes on without her knowledge. Do not attempt to form allies; every woman there will seek to get rid of you, they all wish to eliminate the competition. Every man will seek to bed you, but you must maintain your virtue until marriage. Don't let them get inside your head; if they succeed, I have no doubt you will learn the true meaning of evil. The customs of court are very different from what you have experienced and one's reputation is all they have."Before Hermione could blink, the countess disappeared, forcefully slamming the door.

Tears blurred her vision at the realization of why her mother is so cold. Her indifference had saved her at court.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey Guys, sorry for the lack of updates! School started up again! I'm officially a second semester college student. YAY! ****My New Years resolution (****Even though it's a little late to make one)** is to update at least every week, so you can expect them every Thursday-Friday. Just to address a few things: I know my story is not historically correct, I am aware I did not get the titles right, but I don't see it as a problem because this is a fan fiction after all. 

**To all my lovely reviewers: Guest, SuperPotterWhoLockFan, ellebelle12,Guest,Smithback, thanks so much for showing some love! Your reviews really make my day! :) Keep them coming!**

**xxxx Lena**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. **

_If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, _

_ don't be alarmed now, it's just a spring clean_

_ for the May queen. Yes there are two paths_

_ you can go by, but in the long run_

_ There's still time to change the road you're on._

-Led Zepplin: _Stairway to heaven_

**England 1534**

**Kingdom of Gryffindor**

**Queen Ginerva's Chambers**

Suffocation and shortness of breath never failed to accompany her majesty's dressing ritual.

Queen Ginerva Potter managed to choke out her usual high pitched squeals as her corset was tightened. "Luna, not so tight! Is it your pitiful excuse for a life's mission to murder your queen?"

Lady Luna Lovegood struggled to contain her snort of disbelief. She had been searving the queen for over five years, since she had first wedded the king. Taking several calming breaths she carefully loosened the queens corset before replying,"No your majesty, it was most certainly not my intention. I live to serve you, and I most humbly beg your forgiveness if my incompetence caused any discomfort." Carefully assessing the Queen's mood, she wondered if her majesty would expect her to be completely on the floor, or if a bow would suffice. Deciding quickly, she finished her apology with a deep bow as well as cast down eyes.

The usual five seconds had passed before it was accecptable to look up again, and as Luna did so, she met the queens triumphant smirk as it slid in to place. The queens eyes narrowed before she spoke again.

"Listen you little bi-" The queen was cut off as the entrance to her chambers opened. Luna froze, kneeling to the floor she and the queen both spoke in unison,"Your Majesty."

The king nodded, making his way into the center of Ginerva's chambers. He turned to Luna and waved his hand dismissively; his voice commanding respect, "Leave us."

Bowing once more before uttering, "Right away my lord," she scurried out of the room.

King Harry Potter stared at his wife. A hard look full of hatred consuming his face, burning his insides. The insolent little bitch was unable to give him a male heir, let alone conceive any at all. She remained unaware of their precarious situation.

If he was unable to produce a male heir, the throne would belong to The duke of Norfolk, Thomas Riddle. Harry had hoped to invoke the law of Orpheus, in which Riddle marries before the passing of the current monarch, making any claim he laid on the throne invalid.

"Wife, you have a new lady arriving by carriage in a fortnight, along with our special guest I told you about. Do not fuck this up, or mark my words wench, I will send you to a monastery before you can even perceive the idea to gallivant off with that disgusting servant Dean! Have you no respect?" He had planned to bring the Warwick-Granger heir to court in order to bed her, as rumors of her beauty had peeked his interest, but she may prove to be useful as a distraction for Riddle. If the rumors of the duke's sexual conquests were anything to go on, the king would be unable to take her to bed before Riddle, for he would not touch a tainted woman with a mile long sward. He snickered to himself knowingly, he could always bed her if and when Riddle tired of her.

Remembering his shrewd, unpleasant wife's fuck ups, he moved toward her, grabbing her by the throat before continuing, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you are not completely ignorant of your inability to give me an heir. Why would you dishonor our house if you weren't? Do the doctors speak the truth? Have you concealed your miscarriages? Answer me!"

The queen's eyes narrowed, she brought her hand up in attempt to remove the king's fropm her throat. Struggleing to release her neck she choked out, "Husband, you dishonor our house all on your own, you do not need to blame me. You think I'm unaware of your indiscretions? How you whore yourself about? Is any woman at court immune to your charms? Why, I'd say you ride them like horses. It's more sport than anything else is it not? If I were to miscarry, my lord, you would be the first to know. Any heirs I have lost, were a result of the constant abuse you subject me to."

Sarcasm poured through her formerly hoarse voice as she continued, "Honestly husband, how would an unborn child survive your foul temper when you unleash it? The fault lies with you alone. We will continue to rule without an heir until you cease your mistreatments, they are a plague upon my body."

The King's face drained of color. His hand straining from his iron tight grip on his wife's neck. Taking a deep breath, he collected his temper, and spoke in a dangerously calm voice.

"Come to me tonight. It is not a suggestion, but an order. We will continue to try for an heir. If you wish for me to treat you as an animal, and to how did you say it? Ah yes, ride you as a horse, I will certianly abide your request wife. Good day."

Ginerva Attempted to hold back her scowl. Unseccessful, she growled out "Good day, Husband."

**England 1534**

**Sub-Kingdom of Slytherin**

**Gaunt Manor, Property of the Duke of Norfolk**

Thomas Riddle struggled to close his trunk. He new he had over packed the infernal contraption, but he always told himself that it was far more beneficial to possess too much than too little. Tom based his existence on over preparing. There had never been a downside to having a surplus of resources at one's beck and call. Attempting a third try of latching the steel snap of his trunk, Tom's mind swarmed with ideas of how to approach Draco Malfoy. If Malfoy is the true Slytherin Tom believes him to be, then the conversation starter should be easy. To a Slytherin Knowledge is power.

The benefits lie with knowing more than the enemy, and to appear ignorant in the face of others was utterly disgusting. If Malfoy knew of the atrocities of the crown against his own kin, surely he wouldn't continue to favor Potter? Then again, Potter and his mother are the only family he knows. Potter probably shoved the value of honor down Malfoy's throat daily.

He could possess a conscience, or petty emotions like love. Tom had only read about love once, in his mother's journal. Upon finding the offending journal, Tom's first thought had been to dispose of it in the nearest ditch. Pure curiosity forced him to open the worn leather-bound book. What hooked him on reading about his mother's private life, was that she never failed to address the entries as dearest friend. Tom had spent days thinking of who dearest friend could be. He continued to draw blanks. Toward the end of her life, one of Merope's last journal entries had compared her relationship with Tom's disgusting Gryffindor father to the legend of Asasthenes and Maigrat.

_10 July 1518_

_Dearest friend,_

_I see it in his eyes, the loathing for our unborn child. What has happened to my Tom to make him act as he does? His strange behavior has been consistent since he found out I am with child. All men wish to have an heir do they not? He refuses to lie with me, and barely speaks to me. My heart aches for him, and for the love we used to share. Recently the relationship I share with Tom has been full of grief, forcing an ancient tragedy to spin through my thoughts. My dear mother, may she rest in peace, told this story to Morfin and I every time our father would start a drinking binge. _

_Asasthenes was the only son of a king, and Maigrat was a priestess in temple of the gods. Upon seeing her, Asasthenes desired Maigrat. Blinded by his charm, Maigrat agreed to meet him in secret. As a priestess, Maigrat had taken a vow to resist men and remain a virgin. Breaking the solemn oath was punishable by death. Asasthenes reassured Maigrat she would be safe because he was a son of the king. Over the course of three months, Maigrat met Asasthenes when the moon was at its highest in the lunar cycle. Maigrat's feelings for Asasthenes grew stronger each day. On the night of what would be their last meeting, Maigrat reveled she was with child. Asasthenes had left without a single word and returned home to speak to his father. Maigrat believed Asasthenes left to seek his father's blessing for their unborn child._

_The following morning, Maigrat was taken from her home and sentenced to death. The charges were that a witness had seen her lay with a man near the temple. The witness came foreword and Maigrat realized it was Asasthenes speaking against her. He had betrayed her to save himself. Legend says that while Maigrat burned alive for their indiscretion, she cursed Asasthenes and every male heir birthed into his line, to eternally suffer._

_Asasthenes married a year after Maigrat's death, his wife died in childbirth after giving birth to an unhealthy baby. He traveled to the underworld to beg for her soul back and death made a deal with him. In exchange for the soul of his sickly child, the one who truly loved him would return and stay by his side for eternity . Asasthenes returned home, only to find Maigrat in his wife's place. She greeted him with a smile, and eventually drove him mad. Without considering the second part of his deal with death, he took his own life. When Asasthenes soul reached the afterlife, Maigrat greeted him with a smile and made the rest of eternity unpleasant._

_All myths were birthed from facts. I continue to wonder if my Tom believes me to be the bane of his existence. Is our love only an illusion? Am I cursed to fill his life with grief and sorrow until death? Or will it continue in the afterlife as well?_

After reading this page of Merope's journal, Tom felt the beginnings of a headache. Still the questions continued to swarm his mind. Could 'dearest friend' be a secret lover?

The distinct sound of a throat clearing rang through his chambers, "Your Grace, His Eminence, the Archbishop of Canterbury has arrived to escort you to court."

A vile grin spread across Tom's face as his eyes met the page standing before him. Voice heavy with confidence, he replied, "Ah, yes, Draco Malfoy. Do send him in."

The nervous page bowed his head and fled the room with a hurried, barely audible, "Right away your grace."

Moments later, Tom encountered the signature Malfoy light blonde hair, accompanied by fair skin and grey eyes. The Archbishop raised and eyebrow, as if waiting for Tom to address him first. Inhaling deeply, Tom tried to collect the unwanted feeling twisting in his gut. This particular feeling wasn't unfamiliar to him. It always managd to rear its disgusting head at the most inopportune moments. Ignoring the lightheadedness and the rapid beating of his heart, Tom pushed through his nerves. He would, no doubt, manage to fuck up his plan if he allowed the Malfoy heir to see that he is nervous. No self-respecting Slytherin would let another see their weakness, to do so would be suicide.

Plastering a smirk across his face, Tom half-bowed his head. "Your Eminence, what a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The ruthless hidden-meaning to the Archbishop's smirk, almost mirrored that of Tom's.

Malfoy crossed the room before sitting in the large arm chair adjacent to the fireplace. With a lisurely nod, Malfoy responded, "Your grace, I see your reputation precedes you. Now then, is it really a pleasure to meet me? Or do you simply take pride in being an insufferable kiss-ass?"

Tom froze, the hostility in Malfoy's voice momentarily catching him by surprise. Regaining his routine composure, Tom's previously unguarded tone spewed callousness. "Worried about my opinion, Eminence? For a senior noble such as yourself, you seem have some-dare I say it, impractical esteem issues? I'm not surprised, you being the king's personal bitch and all, but tell me Eminence, have you so soon forgotten proper etiquette? The lessons our tutors provided when we were children? If your father could see you disgracing yourself in the very kingdom whose ideals seethe through your veins, he'd surely turn over in his grave."

Tom triumphed in Malfoy's cantankerous expression; an expression Morfin's grotesque face had taken when playing _chess_. Tom moved closer to Malfoy, his egotistical aura pulsating as he reveled in his victorious mention of Malfoy's father. If Morfin were in Malfoy's position he would say, _'Insolent little shit! You've exposed my queen.'_

Unable to meet Tom's eyes, the Malfoy heir stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. His eyes never strayed from the neoclassical wall decoration as he reclusively uttered, "And what would you know of my father?"

An eager smirk pulled at Tom's features. _Checkmate_.


End file.
